They stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, shoulder to shoulder, in companionable silence. Ten seconds left. The crowd's roaring count down could be heard from their lofty perch, albeit muted by the glass. Their chants echoed off the buildings in rhythmic waves. One last second. The clamor from the crowd below rose to a reverberating pitch so mighty that Kent felt the windowpane beneath his fingers tremble. It was as if the glass itself acknowledged the birth of something wondrous. A beep sounded from his watch. 9 PM sharp. Confettis streamed through the air, glittering in rainbow hues whenever they caught the light. A series of fireworks exploded across the night sky, bathing the streets in shades of pink and gold.